


The Queen’s Diversion

by Buntheridon



Series: Tripping on Azerite [15]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alliance War Campaign, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Azshara ships Fairshaw, Azshara the mother of femdom, Blow Jobs, Drinking, F/F, Friendship, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Nazjatar, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgy, POV Second Person, Pansexual Character, Polyamory, Shiploads of Oceanic Similes, Smut, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Threesome (mentioned), Vaginal Penetration, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth, all the penetrations, threesome turned to foursome except it isn’t
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:02:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24819604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buntheridon/pseuds/Buntheridon
Summary: Your adventures in Nazjatar come to a conclusion. Shaw joins your party and Flynn will excel in a new role. You have a very special seat in the audience.
Relationships: Azshara (Warcraft)/You, Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Series: Tripping on Azerite [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1233917
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31





	The Queen’s Diversion

The breathtaking beauty of Nazjatar has almost made you forget the danger of the halted ocean walls around it. The drowned city is so vast, and only a portion of it is in the dry area kept open by the Tidestone. The spiky corals and newly created waterfalls among the high elven spirals and domes have a certain charm to them, the nature’s claim to all areas in the end. Colorful fathom rays swim about in the air as the living example of strong faith moving mountains or in this case changing air to water. Or maybe they are just plain dumb, who can tell?

The ancient Kaldorei buildings, despite being shattered and in ruins, make you feel this perplexing warmth of ... _home._ It must be Azshara’s tricks, you’re sure of it. Or it’s because they remind you of your elven home in Feralas.

It’s the third day adventuring with the dashing and suave captain Flynn Fairwind, your partner in crime and love, although you both mostly respect any local laws and the love you share has the potency to be shared among more people than one. Which is exactly what you’ve done whenever you meet your hot, elusive, self-disciplined third party member Spymaster Mathias Shaw of Stormwind, nowadays mainly of Boralus.

The other day during your pseudo-underwater exploration around Queen Azshara’s realm you bumped into a Highborne ghost, a slightly nutty wizard Mardivas, who had drowned in the Sundering ten thousand years ago. He went on about his unsolvable hidden puzzles he had left throughout the city and of course you and your Kul Tiran companion started looking for them. No sailor can resist a treasure.

“Just a little bit to the left, yes, yes, there – that _red throbbing nipple_ right there.”

“This one?”

“That’s orange, I know they look the same but no. The one above it.”

Since the puzzles are located inside abandoned buildings you have time to solve them undisturbed and in peace. Flynn flicks his fingers blindly, unaccustomed to being inside an Arcane simulation.

“Uh, really hard to focus anywhere in this thingy. Was that the correct one?”

“Yes, your skillful fingers did the trick again, luv – listen.” You poke a yellow rune upwards and three runes disappear with a small jingle and a flash of magic. “I love that sound, isn’t it just _cute?_ Makes every step feel so rewarding.”

“Sweetheart, I’m glad you are enjoying this but my eyes will remain permanently crossed if we don’t end this real quick.” Despite the discomfort he’s still patient and does his best. Soon the colorful puzzle is solved, the simulation dissipates around you revealing a small decorated chest from its magical hiding.

“Now that is a sight I appreciate,” Flynn grins. He opens it and you share the small precious manapearls equally, later taking them to your Ankoan allies to trade for gold or Azerite.

The charming and nigh omnipotent Queen Azshara has allowed you to quest in peace in her realm for now, but you feel you still have to be prepared for her possible intrusion at any moment. Her magic throbs and flows through the whole area and you are in a perpetual state of mild to moderate heat. Other people don’t seem to feel it so you let it just pulsate in you and pretend not to care.

“Right, my pockets are positively bulging. Let’s head back, yeah?”

Travelling on your prismatic disc, the captain’s arms tightly around your waist, you ponder whether you should and where in this queendom you might get a bit more intimate with him tonight. There’s no privacy in the cramped Alliance camp where you’ve slept for the past couple of nights.

You arrive at Mezzamere. Flynn runs to collect his prize, you step inside the building where king Greymane and Lord Admiral Proudmoore have made their base of operations. Jaina’s soft voice reaches you before you even see her.

“Champion. I was hoping to catch you.”

“Lady Jaina. How can I help?” You bow lightly, smiling. You’ve been in fairly good terms ever since you arrived in Nazjatar.

“Follow me. I can sense ley lines of magical energy converging below ground. We can tap into this latent power to forge a connection to Boralus. I need the power of your Heart of Azeroth.” You walk outside with her to a broken down dome near the edge of the cliff where an old teleport platform is partially visible under the seaweed and mud. Together you conjure a portal, Azerite power invigorating you when it flows through the necklace.

“Perfect. The Heart will allow you to use the portal safely. Now we can get reinforcements here. We need to be very cautious so that Azshara won’t notice it. I’ve put some distorting spells around here but I need to study more yet.” She motions to a pair of Stormwind soldiers and they step through the portal.

”Actually, you could get me some reagents for the stronger wards,” she mentions like a meaningless afterthought and you don’t suspect anything until a list longer than that of the orphanage to Greatfather Winter rests in your hand.

Two hours later you and Flynn drag yourselves back to the fishpeople’s town. Your hair is adorned with seaweed, your robe glimmering with clam dust and unrecognizable slime, your fingers sticky with some mild poison from a predatory fish you had to strangle. Its own fault, you saw that rare eel first. Jaina is content with what you’ve brought so you deem the trouble worth it.

”I’m never eating seafood again,” Flynn announces, brushing entrails off his jacket.

”So you would think–” You start but freeze seeing a familiar stoic figure in the town center talking to the Alliance officers.

”Scratch that. Are you thirsty? Because I sure am.” The captain follows your gaze and a warm smile spreads under his moustache.

”Ohh. I am _now.”_

You both just stand there, practically camouflaged by the filth you’ve been combing and diving through, watching how Spymaster Mathias Shaw explains something to the 7th Legion troops. They are probably starting to prepare for the assault on Azshara’s Palace. He’s so damn attractive when he’s all professional and authoritative like that. Flynn breaks your trance.

”Should we let him settle?”

”Nah.” You start towards Shaw but Flynn grabs you by the sleeve.

“No, seriously. Lady Proudmoore is _right there._ We’ll lose our heads again.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess we need to be sneaky about it.”

“He sees through my stealth. And my poker face. Damn that man.” His voice is full of admiration and longing. You make a note of letting him have lots of time with Shaw.

“No, I meant concerning Jaina. Who sees through my… everything. Let’s just leave him an invitation he cannot resist.” You retreat silently from the village. “And since when has your poker face been anything but useless?”

“Hey!”

  
  
  


*****

  
  
  


Your battle senses screaming on red alert you try to seem relaxed in the drinking establishment of your unfortunate choice. Flynn looks around smiling, amused and perfectly chill, sipping his ale.

”Jolly little buggers, aren’t they? Look at that green one dancing there! Those toes, aww!”

”Ugh, you have _no_ idea, do you, Kul Tiran?”

When you had spotted the underwater cave on one of your early scouting trips it had been noontime and the place was empty save the tables and the bottles you had thought ancient. Who could have guessed it was an active bar (and grill) and all the patrons were _murlocs_ (and that one sea giant named Glargh)?! Fortunately the barkeep is your old acquaintance, the eccentric night elf druid who never takes off his murloc suit. He assures you none if the patrons have ever attacked anyone but each other, those being usually family quarrels, and that Rhgrrl will calm down with a serving of fresh Viper fish if she drinks one too many.

You are not going to ask.

”So, what’s happened in the hero front since we met at Highmountain?” He asks conversationally, handing you the stiffest drink he has like you ordered.

”Well, you know, this and that, a giant sword piercing the planet, my home tree burned down, this place here opening up and it kinda being my fault. How are you even here? I saw this bar like a few days after the fleet fell.” You gulp down the drink in one go and it warms you nicely with a weird seaweedy aftertaste.

”Oh, this place is old, I only occupied it because it was abandoned and in the middle of the Bloodfin village. I thought, since most people avoid murlocs no-one would come complaining about me making use of the cave after I got an approval from the Bloodfin chief.” He pauses and you imagine a thoughtful frown since you can’t see his face. “Cataclysmic events taking place, you say? It was a curious thing, really, I was tending the young ones at the coast of Azsuna when suddenly they all got very agitated and jumpy. The wind changed too, pushing westwards to the sea and next thing I knew the whole village of Mrgrrrla was up and swimming towards this pillar of water that had appeared in the distant horizon. So I packed my bags and followed them on my little boat.”

You nod to his story and jolt a little every time a tiny inebriated fishmonster saunters too near you. King Mrgl-Mrgl grunts disapprovingly inside his costume and sighs. He turns to Flynn who is trying to get a reddish murloc to answer to his raised glass gesture, and that seems to brighten his spirit. 

”You might not want to know what our leader is saying about murlocs in Darkshore–” you start but the other night elf raises his voice over yours.

”Sir, _please_ sheathe your weapons. Our patrons are here to enjoy themselves, not for stabbing.”

Mathias Shaw shrugs the shadows off him and secures his daggers away. ”I apologize, good barkeep. I received misinformation about this place.” He glares at you.

”If by ’trouble’ in your note you meant Fairwind finding his soulmates I don’t see what I can do to stop that.” You glance at Flynn and shriek. He seems to be teaching Kul Tiran dance steps to a group of mildly interested murlocs. One of them is stealing sips from his mug.

”I thought this cave would be empty. I’d like to leave, my inner battle alarms are going mad in here.”

”And what, pray tell, were you planning on doing in an empty cave, champion?” By the sarcasm and the raised brow you know he knows exactly what. But he doesn’t seem tense or angry this time.

”We missed you.”

”Mathias!” Flynn exclaims, waving, gladdened up to his ears. ”You came to my rescue.”

”Sometimes I think you are beyond help, captain.”

”Nonsense. You are precisely what I needed. Let’s go, it’s a bit crowded in here, am I right?” Flynn grabs you both by the arm and without warning yanks you with him into the exit pool with a splash. You swim the short way out of the cave and back to the surface outside.

”Come, I’ll get us out of here,” you tell them, conjuring your disc. Feeling snug and warm between the men gripping you for support you fly a little way off the murloc village. 

”Soooo Mathias. Did you get a nice private room or tent in Mezzamere?” Flynn chirps, totally not caring that the point of his question is shining on his grin.

”No. I’m afraid we all sleep in that common dormitory set outside the ruins there.”

”What? Even high ranking officers like you?”

”Cannot help it, there’s not much space on the reef. We’re intruding on the Ankoan as it is.”

”Oh. Bugger.” You can almost hear the sailor’s cogs turning. He grabs the first idea that comes to his mind, apparently. ”Hey, what’s that? Looks neat. Let’s go investigate!”

Shaw rolls his eyes but plays along. The building Flynn is pointing at in the hopes of finding a fully made king-sized bed inside is a ruined elven spire that you know is empty from your earlier trips to this zone. Judging by your recent luck however it’s probably the headquarters of a monster crab empire now. Or haunted. You land on its doorstep and dispell the disc.

”I’m glad you came here, Spymaster. I felt forlorn leaving Boralus without you.”

”And I’m glad you survived the crash,” he answers you quietly. 

”Oh, yes. That… was a close call.” You walk in through the doorless entrance of the tower, bathing in the warm feeling his words evoked. The place is still unoccupied. 

Before you have to get into the embarrassing business of admitting out loud your reason for luring him here you are interrupted by the biggest party crasher of the realm, possibly the whole planet.

_”My, my, what do we have here? My child, you and I seem even more alike than I thought.”_

”Oh, fuck,” you blurt out while your knees start to tremble. Flynn whimpers and covers his head with his hands, Shaw is immediately in his battle stance, daggers drawn, searching for the source of the voice.

_”And both such succulent specimens too. I think I’ll make this visit a bit more… personal.”_

”Don’t bother, Shaw. You can’t beat her with those and she won’t come here in the flesh.”

”She? Are you saying that’s –”

Azshara’s perfect mirror image appears in front of your little group, her tentacly hair flowing like underwater, her fiery eyes glinting playfully. She stands a head taller than you, majestic and sensual in her half-naga form. Your panties get soaked just feeling her Arcane power grow and concentrate around you.

_”Yes, it’s me, the Queen and goddess of this realm. You may worship me in the manner of your choosing. I’m certainly interested in your other appendages but do put the needles away like your mistress ordered, they are utterly useless.”_

”My _what_ now?” Shaw barks, turning to look at you with an eyebrow raised.

You shrug. “She abhors the notion of men commanding where it counts.”

“You’re… seriously all chummy with her?” the Spymaster inquires rhetorically, not making a move to sheathe the daggers. Flynn sidles behind him for cover. Azshara’s reflection slides all snakelike behind you and you jump in surprise: the image can _touch_ you.

 _“I think it’s the best approach, since you are all guests here in my home. The waters will stay back as long as I want them to. It’s not wise to oppose me too harshly, although I do take pleasure in a good challenge,”_ she drawls with that erotic voice of hers that turns you into a quivering blob of needy jelly. Azshara’s four arms slowly entwine around you, caressing fingers slide up the back of your neck through your hair, from your neck down over your breasts, one hand holding your waist, one cupping your bum cheek softly. The touch is ethereally light, sending shivers through your whole being. She presses her dark lips on your cheek, whispering.

_“I would like to see your men embrace one another, what do you say, young Kaldorei?”_

“Oh, not this again,” Shaw groans. Flynn is grabbing his shoulders from behind, very bravely holding the assassin as his shield.

“Yep, the… Queen seems to like it when people are copulating in her presence.” Despite his position the captain doesn’t seem as afraid as he makes out. He stares at the four hands moving on your body, hunger in his eyes.

“If you hurt her–” Shaw threatens, but the oomph is missing from his tone. Azshara laughs and the sound reverberates through your mana veins like Azerite, making you draw breath sharply.

 _“Tell them, mage.”_ One of her hands pulls at your robe hems and slides up your thigh.

“Shaw. She won’t hurt us… I think. Let’s just indulge her, you know she’s mighty enough to strike us all down if she wanted to. No point in resisting.”

“I don’t mind,” Flynn volunteers, “as long as there aren’t any tentacles near me. Or in me, to be precise.”

“How can you be sure? What is she, a relative of yours?”

“She’s... my ancestor, yes. And sort of the reason I’m a mage in the first place. But don’t worry, I remain loyal to the Alliance! We met her earlier with Flynn and she spared us as long as we played her game.”

Mathias puts the knives away angrily. He obviously doesn’t like to be bossed around if he hasn’t chosen to follow that authority himself. He and the captain watch you writhe in the Queen’s multiple hands.

 _“I admit some of the millennia have been long but I resent being called an ancestor, young elf. That was naughty of you, I’m still very much alive. I think a demonstration of my vigour will set your mind right.”_ Magic sizzles in her touch, making you moan. Her upper hands pull your robes off and the lower ones spread your legs. Flynn yelps, Mathias watches intensely. You realize why when several of her thick tentacles slither over your nakedness, slimy and sensual and promising. Apparently she can extend those from her head as she wishes.

“My magnificent Queen, I apologize,” you sing in husky lust-tinted voice, floating in the euphoria without fear, “but do show me nonetheless, I deserve it.” Your lovers have an air of slight discomfort about them, the situation both threatening and highly arousing. They are both hard under their leathers.

 _“Accepted. Let us watch your beautiful consorts pleasure each other. It’s been a while since I hosted a proper orgy.”_ She starts omitting a low purring spell, like slow ripples in the missing water, a chant of carnal joy. Flynn gasps, Shaw’s lips press into tight line. One of Azshara’s upper hands caress your jaw and your lips open for her fingers to push in. The skin of her perfectly lifelike mirror image tastes of the ocean and the Arcane, and you didn’t even know magic had a taste. 

_“Don’t be shy now, boys. I’m sure you want to please her, and I can feel this wouldn’t be the first time for you two.”_

Flynn massages Shaw’s shoulders. “How about it, mate? Come on, it’s alright.”

“You think this is alright?” he barks but the captain pulls him close and smashes his lips on his. It takes a moment for the spy to melt into it but to your surprise he does, the Queen’s spell probably stimulating his surrender. Shaw opens his lips into the kiss and grabs Flynn’s lapels, and you see their greedy tongues slide wetly on each other, with a dose of aggression from Shaw. Azshara brushes over your clit feather-lightly with one of her slick tentacles, sweeping repeatedly, barely touching, and it drives you slowly to the brink of euphoric madness while your eyes are glued to your lovers, while you suck on her fingers with fervor.

Shaw pushes Flynn’s jacket off his shoulders and snaps open the buttons of his almost-white swashbuckler shirt. Flynn starts pulling on the laces of the assassin’s corset-like tunic, blindly, keeping their lips together, sucking into the kiss. His hands are pushed downwards with a grunt _‘that’s irrelevant’_ and they both go for each other's belt buckles.

 _“How enthusiastic they are,”_ Azshara purrs. _“Have you had them both?”_ You nod, unable to speak, spit trickling down your chin. Soon the men are nude save for the half-opened chestpiece on Shaw, who grabs the captain’s erection in his fist and pushes the sailor against the wall. Flynn laughs and moans against his mouth.

 _“I think I want to see the long haired one take control,”_ the Queen of the Depths decides and the men turn to look at her, perplexed, then back at each other. They shrug comically at the same time and Flynn grins widely. Her magic must be at play here, for they behave almost like they were in private – relaxed and uncaring of the enemy. Flynn places his palm on top of Shaw’s head and nods downwards, looking smug. The Spymaster, your usual dominant guide, lets himself be pushed down on his knees and his face against the captain’s root.

Queen Azshara pulls her fingers out. _“I know you like to have your mouth filled too. Let me provide a substitute while you enjoy their show,”_ she chuckles and one of the thickest white tentacles around your waist slithers up, shifts shape to resemble a particular bit of elven anatomy and hovers on your lips, waiting, teasing. You see the moustache duo pause their game to observe what is happening to you. The monstrous limb thrusts into your mouth and you welcome it, swallowing, gagging. The other tentacle sliding over your nub presses down harder and you feel the heat surge in you, like the sea walls around the zone might be collapsing over you any second, like a speeding herd of clefthooves about to trample over your wanting, tense body.

And then she stops, right at the edge, leaving you wiggle and gasp through your nose. The cock-like tentacle claims your mouth leisurely and the Queen behind you hums, playful, enjoying the game. The rogues stare at you mouths open, members weeping at the tip. Then Shaw, without warning, slides Flynn’s foreskin back and sucks the swollen head between his lips.

 _“Blimey,”_ Flynn gasps, the swapping of roles so rare he probably hasn’t even dared to dream of it. His hazy eyes stare at his cock sinking into the Spymaster’s mouth, incredulous, dizzy with lust. _Oh, he won’t last a minute,_ you muse, nearly jealous of him in your burning need. And then the damned Queen thrusts into your warmth with that earlier tease of a tentacle. You whine, muffled, as she fills you with the thick, slithery flesh on both ends.

 _“Can you feel his tide rising, my child? Oh, look at that face, he’s about to burst, like he’s never been sucked before”_ she murmurs in your ear. _Not by this guy he hasn’t,_ you think knowing this will change something in your threesome dynamics _._ And sure enough, Flynn jerks and nearly doubles over from the force of his orgasm, hands clutching Shaw’s hair, mouth open, eyes closed, cheeks adorably red. At the same time Azshara grants you her mercy, a new tendril pushes over you clit with precision and you surge into the twisting nether of bliss. 

_“Yesss, there you go, beautiful,”_ she urges, _“come in my name.”_ You won’t or can’t utter a single word with your mouth stuffed but you just might have yelled her name in your mind.

The assassin keeps Flynn upright holding his hips against the wall while he sucks and licks until the younger man stops throbbing. He pulls his mouth off with a pop and swallows, looking up at Flynn who’s definitely not the one in control.

“Tides, mate…” he huffs. They both look at his cock that’s not showing any signs of going soft.

“Huh. That’s strange. It’s not usually that keen. I mean, not since I turned thirty.”

 _“We aren’t finished yet, gentlemen. You will find that in celebrations under my rule your stamina will grow considerably.”_ Her tentacle thrusts inside you, slowly, in a swaying motion reminiscent of the waves of an ocean on a good wind, in the same rhythm with the one between your swollen lips. You get glimpses of the guys when you’re able to keep your eyes open. They stare at you in such awe it wouldn’t be out of place if drool were to drip from their mouths – even Shaw’s. Then Flynn shakes himself off the trance and takes the wheel since he was ordered to do so, guiding Mathias over a low stone slab that used to be a bench some thousands of years ago.

“Welp, shouldn’t waste a good boner then. Lie there, Matty. It’s high time I showed you some love.”

“Fine, but only if you swear never to call me by that name again.” The Spymaster has accepted the situation and doesn’t protest, apparently calculating that the faster they comply the faster it’s over.

Not like he doesn’t enjoy it, though. He sits on the bench and unties his intricate chestpiece easily to the amazement of the captain who was struggling with it previously. His sinewy muscles are a delight to the eye, the profession that requires sneaking, climbing and fighting has kept him in admirable shape. The younger man is somewhat softer, beautiful, strong and a tad taller than the assassin; his thoroughly bronzed skin tone suggests he sunbathes naked. Probably sprawled on the deck of his ship without a thought spared to his less uninhibited crew members. He pushes Shaw gently down on his back and his hands continue the caress down from his freckled chest, over his tight abs, avoiding the twitching erection for now. He guides him to raise his knees and plant his feet on the edge of the bench.

 _“See, he’s about to find his power,”_ the Queen of the Depths speaks to your ecstatic mind, slowly fucking your mouth and quim, keeping you high on arousal and bliss but not letting you climax. Her four hands hold your limbs, her numerous tentacles caress everywhere on your skin.

You watch Flynn cup Mathias’ tight sack in a gentle grip, his other palm drawing soothing patterns on his tense abdomen. His middle finger reaches further down until it touches his back entrance. Flynn glances over his shoulder to the (broadly speaking) elven tangle and flashes a grin.

“I need some oil or a spell to not hurt him, your… majesty.”

 _“Granted,”_ Azshara hums and you too feel the muscles of your lower body relax in a tingling sensation. The sailor nods and with slow circular motions starts pushing his finger in. You hear Shaw draw in breath but so do you – one of the tentacles slithers between your buttcheeks and finds a way in. It’s not as thick as the two already gliding in you but as it moves in and out it slowly seems to grow.

“That alright, mate? I’m not hurting you?” Flynn asks as the second knuckle of his finger disappears inside Shaw.

“It’s fine,” he barks, “just… I don’t usually – _uhh –”_

“What? Don’t tell me I’m your first!”

“You know this isn’t my… inclination. I’ve never fancied it this way.” Shaw sounds almost embarrassed and oh, oh, is that a _blush?_

“Ohh, matey! You are in for a treat! I’m going to do you so good. Just lie back and relax, alright?” He carefully adds another finger and Shaw grunts, but it’s not all discomfort on his face. Azshara matches her penetrating movements to the pace of Flynn’s fingers and it connects you with them in a breathless, rhythmic way.

“Man, you feel amazing, so relaxed and responsive. Can’t wait to feel you clenching around my cock,” Flynn speaks softly, teasing and reassuring at the same time. “I promise you’ll love it.”

“Shut up, Fairwind. I said I don’t – _ahh!”_

“What was that?” The captain has added a third finger and judging by the lustful surprise in Shaw’s cry found a spot that feels particularly good. “I’m getting mixed signals from you, Mathias. It’s like you can’t handle not being in control, and I get it, you’re an absolute badass when you boss us around like the devoted little followers we are but –” he eases his fingers out, which makes Shaw exhale like he had been holding his breath, “but I think it’ll be very enlightening for you to test all the positions, am I right?”

Flynn encloses Shaw’s balls in one palm and positions the tip of his cock on the rim. He pushes his hips forward and it slips in easily, slicked by magic and his manipulations. The Spymaster grips the sides of the bench, his mouth open, swearing soundlessly. Flynn has closed his eyes and his handsome face is the epitome of bliss when he thrusts all the way in.

“Tides, Mathias–”

The tentacle inside your anus swells and the one in your mouth pops out wetly, letting you finally moan and gasp freely. 

_“Fuck,”_ Mathias curses. Flynn bends closer and leans his hands on the bench on both sides of the assassin’s waist. Watching down on their joining like he couldn’t believe it was happening he pulls halfway out and pushes back till the hilt. You see that his next thrust is angled slightly upwards and that little adjustment makes all the difference: Shaw’s back arcs and he moans, his rock-hard cock twitching above his belly, dripping at the tip. You can almost feel it, until you _actually_ feel it – your Queen pounds on the same spot in you and it’s almost too much.

Shaw doesn’t care about keeping his cool anymore. He’s pushing his hips to meet Flynn’s who’s sweating and nearly delirious, trying his hardest not to come yet.

 _“Ah, isn’t that just beautiful,”_ Queen Azshara says in a voice that tells you she gets her enjoyment being the master of things, the guide to new pleasures as long as they’re enjoyed because of her, under her rule. _“The bossy one really needed to loosen up.”_

“Gods, Shaw, you’re so tight – so hot –”

With a broken moan the Spymaster comes, untouched, shooting long bursts that land on his chest and stomach. You stare, transfixed, clenching around Azshara’s thick, pulsing tentacles, and finally, finally she lets your flood tides rush in from behind the dam. A slick tendril licks your clitoris and your orgasm crashes in you, overwhelming and deafening like the ocean walls nearby, blinding like the Queen’s expansive aura of Arcane power. You feel like singing praises to her glory so you do, her name echoing in the spire chamber. Somewhere in the distance you hear the captain join your choir. Azshara is pleased.

_“I knew you would kneel before me. We will meet again soon, fear not.”_

She has won, you’ve given in and you are only glad about it. You may have passed out, or lost yourself in a spellbound oblivion, because there’s only soft nothingness after your last thought.

_It would be a real shame if our armies managed to defeat her._

  
  
  


*****

  
  
  


“Are you ready, Champion?”

”Yeah, I guess,” you sigh and look around the dried up underwater realm one last time, hanging your backpack over your shoulder in a melancholy manner. It’s been wondrous to be here; it would have been fantastic if you could have just joined her court. After the successful raid through her magnificent Palace, her downfall and what horrors happened right after, the threat of the Old God is critical now and everyone is needed to defend Azeroth from the Black Empire. 

Just as you step through Jaina’s portal you think you can hear a jingling laughter, like enchanted bells, coming from somewhere deep...


End file.
